Imagine waking up in a beautiful seaside location, the crashing waves slowly lulling you out of your slumber, the faraway echoes of exotic birds gently coaxing you out of dreamland, a warm, refreshing breeze serving as nature’s alarm clock. And then imagine waking up after nine hungry days in a hot, humid, bug-infested jungle and the first thing you see is Phillip’s nasty, tattered, ill-fitting, sun-faded red underwear. Because that’s exactly the waking nightmare for the members of the Ometepe tribe as we begin this week’s Survivor: Redemption Island. Any momentum they had after defeating Zapatera last week is immediately erased by the actual sight of Phillip’s junk escaping from his delicates, forcing the Survivor editing team to employ their best blurring skills. But, to Phillip’s credit, he seems entirely comfortable just flapping in the wind. And completely oblivious. But since we’re watching this from the safety of our couch (and, thankfully, with the strategically placed blurs intact) we’re not complaining, because, besides Russell, Phillip is the most entertaining player on the show.
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And, now, suffice to say, they’re pretty much dead.
I’m referring, of course, to the Compact Disc.
Oh, you can still find them. Most of the big music stores are closed, of course. No more Tower Records. Alas, Sam Goody. Whither Virgin…
Yes, strictly speaking, CDs are still out there and, as long as what little I understand of economics still holds true in our increasingly bizarre post-TARP universe, they should be for a while.
But in terms of the popular imagination—in terms of being the de facto medium for pre-recorded music—the Compact Disc is history.